


teach me to fly with broken wings

by mqry



Category: Tangled (2010), Tangled: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, This Is Sad, and every moment after, but was it really his best, i have to learn to write normally, i saw the tumblr post and my interest peaked, quirin tried his best, takes place throughout queen for a day, this made me sad, until season 1 ends, varian needs help, varian sTOP, what if quirin was aware of everything going on, while he was in the amber, whoops metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 20:42:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15848988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mqry/pseuds/mqry
Summary: Quirin watches behind closed eyes, and he yearns to scream out his words. He tries to plead, to beg with anyone that could hear him, but against the yellow that entraps him - he can do nothing but let invisible tears fall.the one where quirin watches the rise and fall of his son and can do nothing to stop itfor achelois, who really does take away my pain and brings me smiles





	teach me to fly with broken wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [achexlois](https://archiveofourown.org/users/achexlois/gifts).



> you're the sunshine in the middle of a rainy day, a distant scent of a flower in a desert. you dragged me into this fandom, and there's no way i'm leaving without you by my side. you're my sister, in every sense of the word.  
> tw! implied/referenced self-harm

It's in his eyes that Quirin can read his son, and although he admits he's never watched him as closely as he should - it's. It's in his eyes. They're the same eyes of Varian's mother, the same ones that he watched the life get drained from. And - he can read his mother; he can read her better than he can read himself, and - he can read Varian.

  
He can read how desperate he is, how he's begging his father not to leave him, and Quirin doesn't want to leave him either. His only job in life was to protect his son, make sure that he was going to be okay - but it's not enough. It's not enough and he's going to be stuck in frozen honey and he's going to watch far from where he needs to be. It's not going to be enough.

  
He doesn't want to leave his son in a land of broken truces and promises. But - if there's even a chance where he can be encased in this life, and give a chance of life for his son - Quirin will gladly stay covered in rock for the rest of his life.

  
But - it's - it's when Varian rushes out, determination in his eyes when Quirin realizes - that there is no protecting his son. He hasn't done enough for Varian to know _what to do_ and _it's his fault._ And Quirin screams and shouts - he wants to spend his last moments with his son by his side, but Varian is already out the door.

  
So he writes. He's never been good at writing, that was more his wife's forte. In any case, he writes what he can, but the amber is covering him, _covering him,_ and he can't reach- He holds it up, perhaps hoping that the amber wouldn't reach his hand? He's not sure, and he can't _think_ because -

  
It's when he's completely encased that he knows - he will never be able to protect his son the way he wanted to. He couldn't do it for Varian's mother and now - Varian. His eyes are closed now, he can't - he doesn't _want_ to see the look on Varian's face when he comes back.

  
He thinks he's waiting there for hours before Varian returns. He's sobbing, and - Quirin has spent his entire life traveling the world, and he believed that he had seen everything the world had to offer - but. _Nothing_ can prepare him for the sounds that come out of Varian. It's heart-wrenching, and Quirin fights every single muscle in his body to _move,_ damnit _!_ But he stays still, and Varian presses a hand to the amber.

  
He can feel it, can feel how Varian's shaking, and he wants to desperately hold his son and make him smile. Make him _happy_ again, not - not this.

  
His fists are slamming against the amber, and he's screaming. _Don't leave me, don't leave me, come back, come back, please._ But Quirin is helpless, and there's nothing he can do except listen to Varian fighting with himself. So many demons must be in there - and -

  
Who will help him? Quirin's blood runs cold. Who will be there to make sure he is okay? Who will be there to help his son? Who will be there to help him? To make the pain go away, to make the hurt subside? There is no one, and he is alone.

  
Varian is alone - and _it's his fault._

  
Varian is all alone, and he doesn't know what to do. For the first time, dealing with emotions that he never dealt with before. His fears becoming a reality. He doesn't know what to do. In the back of his mind, Quirin briefly remembers the chaos one goes through after being faced with another's death.

  
In the beginning, Quirin looks along with Varian for somebody to blame. There is always blame to be spread and - Quirin is frozen, and Varian is searching for a solution so there must be somebody else to blame. There must be somebody else to blame, and Varian is one step ahead of him.

  
He hears Varian's vow, and he wants to tell him that he is okay - that he does not need revenge - just his son. Just for him to hold his son. That's it.

  
But it's not enough. It's not enough, and Varian lets his denial turn into anger. He lets it overcome him, and for days it is him against himself. Fighting with himself, angry with himself, and Quirin begs for him to stop and he cries and shouts as Varian lets angry red marks form across his wrists, where the gloves hide it. _It's not enough, it's not enough_. And Quiren is sobbing, he can never find it in himself to stop, and he knows - it's not anybody's fault.

  
But there must be something else to do - _something to save him_. And Varian is determined to find it - there's something there and if he doesn't find it, then what is he? How can he make his father proud?

  
He plans his attack, muttering and brooding and whispering to himself. And it's not - it's not enough. Quirin wants him to _stop_ but he's completely helpless behind the yellow glass.

  
He's lost, and sometimes Quirin can hear him yelling at himself, fighting with voices that aren't there and Quirin doesn't know what to do when Varian is crying himself to sleep. What _can_ he do? Sometimes he wishes he kept his eyes open, but knows he could never bear the sight of pain in his son's eyes - and knowing he cannot look away.

  
It - it comes in the form of alchemy and science, and chemicals - Quirin never realized how much Varian cared about his work. Engineering and robotics; where did he learn all this? Quirin feels pride in his chest; his son knew to work with things that master scientists could only wonder about, knew how to build things engineers would spend eons working on -

  
It becomes vaguely aware to him that he will never be able to voice his pride to Varian, and he turns his ears away.

  
Sometimes Varian talks to him, explains his plans and Quirin wants to tell him how bright he is or - how _this wasn't right,_ but he can never answer and Varian loses himself in hurt.

  
It's - it's like this. Varian builds, and Quirin can hear the drill hacking away time after time trying to break through the gold. Varian cries, and Quirin turns his ears away. So - it's. It's like this.

  
Varian is all wrong, wrong and he needs help, and goddamnit - nobody is giving it to him. It's. It's like this. Varian is fighting with himself, right against wrong but - there's _no one_ to differentiate the two for him. It's. It's like this. Varian's trying to get him out of amber, but - he's forgetting to take care of even _himself_.

  
Quirin wants to scream that he's not important, that Varian can get through this without him but - he just can't. And Quirin thinks that when - _if_ \- he gets out of here - he'll cry until he has no more tears. And - he thinks that when - _if_ \- he gets out of here, he'll scream and break and he never knew that he could be so - _vulnerable_.

  
Didn't know that he could break down like this, that he could be so torn up about this. But it's not his fault - it's - how could _anyone_ be stable after being forced to watch their own son - their family who they raised, whose moments as an infant he can still remember - throw their lives away because of him? Go through pain and hurt and suffer alone because of him?

  
His son has barely finished fourteen years of life, and he already knows the loss of both guardians, the sting of a betrayal, the yearn after a lost cause, the anger of a thousand knives, the confusion from a labyrinth, the struggle of being _so close_ but _so far away_. It's not enough.

  
Quirin doesn't have to open his eyes to see the hope dissolve from his son's eyes as his one chance at getting what he wishes for to fade away - he can hear his son's heart finally breaking in two, can hear his Varian finally fall apart completely.

  
He's _completely lost his family_ \- and as if to - to rub it in, the royals - they're there and they're _happy_.

  
It's from Varian's anguished cry that Quirin truly hates this gold prison he is stuck in. He hates how there's nothing he can do. He hates how he's - _helpless_.

  
It's when they pull him out of his machinery that Quirin is trying desperately for someone to hear him.

  
Quirin watches behind closed eyes, and he yearns to scream out his words. He tries to plead, to beg with _anyone_ that could hear him, but against the yellow that entraps him - he can do nothing but let invisible tears fall. It's not _enough_.

  
It's when they grab his son roughly and force his hands in front of him to be put in metal cages that Quirin wishes to go back in time, back enough to make sure none of them are grabbed by the amber, to prevent slashes across his son's wrists and arms and his mind from ever forming. To make sure Varian never has to try to get through something that nobody can get through alone - alone.

  
He can hear the horses storming away, and Varian repeating his vow and Quirin is helpless. It's not enough. _Goddamnit, it's not enough!_

  
Hours later, after he's mourned the loss of his son and a chance of ever leaving the amber - he knows. They are alone.

  
It's - a tragedy, Quirin supposes. That his son will spend forever behind metal bars, begging for a father (he can still hear him, hear him muttering and sobbing and screaming and the voices won't leave him _alone_ ). No good deed goes unpunished and Varian is wasting the rest of his life in a prison cell.

  
And Quirin? Maybe it would be better if Varian was stuck in amber instead of the dungeons. Truly alone and hurt beyond - beyond what? Beyond repair? Was there a chance he would see his son happy again? He doesn't know - and he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life wondering about what could've been.

  
So he'll wait. Until he's broken out of here, and Varian is back in his embrace. He'll wait until he can open his eyes again. He'll wait until he can finally let the tears he had spill over the edge - until he can finally be relieved of a fate neither of them deserved.

  
And so does Varian. Until the demons stop their shouting. Until he wakes up and the pain is gone. Until he can finally see the pride in his father's eyes. Until he can finally, finally, be the person everybody wanted him to be.

  
But until then - it's not enough.

  
Until one day, his eyes open and land on -

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this! i've pondered this idea for a while, after seeing a few posts about it on tumblr and i'm glad i finally wrote this down. varian is an angsty boy who needs guidance and help until he can admit his faults, not a lifetime in jail. for my sister.


End file.
